The Fashion craze that ' must not be named'
by DarthDumbledore
Summary: purple turbans shake up the hogwarts staffroom and leave snape with a desire to be fashionable, ties is slightly with events of philosophers stone, how snape actually wounded his leg


He remembered when the idea had been first spun past him. Yeah he had been a bit drunk. However, there had been a little part of him that was tired of always being picked on, tired of being an unrecognized genius, tired of being friendless. That little part of him thought that it might be a good idea to have a Dark lord that had been responsible for hundreds of broken families in the wizarding world, take up residence in the back of his head.

The next day he had woken up feeling a little woozy, a little groggy, but besides that no worse for wear. It was only as he went to try on his new purple turban that he received the fright of his life.

_Some months later_

At last, Quirrell was alone in the staffroom. He stretched out on the couch, taking up the space where another person could have sat, but hey, who was going to try to stop him.

The doorknob turned. Even before the door creaked open, as if it were unleashing a monster from the basements of a haunted house, before the room temperature plummeted and mice and spiders scurried away to hide, Quirrell knew that Snape had entered the staff room and was standing right behind him.

" Good evening Professor," the voice drawled, Quirrell gulped cowering in the couch contracting to take up the space of half an anorexic model and tried to steady his shaking sweating hands.

"Snape," Quirrell squeaked, and felt the skin on the back of his scalp squirm as the hidden face became alert. Quirrell stayed cemented in position as Snape slowly moved through the staffroom, visiting his pigeonhole and pouring himself some tea. Quirrell had managed to avoid all face-to-face confrontations with Snape since his return to Hogwarts, if anybody would suspect anything suspicious and put two and two together and come up with four, it would be Snape. It took only a second after Snape had sat down in the armchair opposite Quirrell before Snape glared into Quirrell's soul and asked,

"What's with the purple turban?"

"Gi-given to me, b-by an um African chief" Snape stared at the purple turban.,

"And that gives you reason to wear it?" Quirrell gulped. "What happened to you in Africa Quirrell?" Snape continued, "What happened to the Muggle studies teacher who left Hogwarts, a perfectly normal wizard? He returns with a purple turban, a stutter and suddenly wants to give the Defence against the Dark Arts position a try."

"I-I thought a um, ch-change of scenery-"

"DON'T play games with me Quirrell!" Snape started,

The back of his scalp was now absolutely tremor filled, as if a thousand pins and needles were vibrating under his skin. The face was going to do something, Quirrell just knew it, something horrible, and Quirrell, caught between Snape and the evil dark lord could only look on and quail in fear.

Then something extraordinary happened. Somewhere, deep down in Quirrell's being, behind his soul and to the left of his small intestine, something snapped and Quirrell found his backbone. " Do you have a problem with purple turbans Snape?" Snape paused unaccustomed to this tone from a person he regarded as a bout as courageous as a half-witted sloth.

"No I just"

"You know, I think they will soon be the latest craze," Quirrell straightened a little in his chair, gaining a few inches. The tremors of his scalp ceased slightly "Better hop on quick Snape," he added, feeling a bit light headed he stood up, this was quite exciting "You don't want to be left behind on the latest trend," he trilled. He made his way to the door, almost, no not almost, he was in fact striding, not a single stumble in his pace. At the door he turned back, as he'd so often seen heroic confidant people do and said excitedly"purple is the new black," He exited and strode down the hallway, smiling at a pack of students who ignored him but Quirrell didn't care, he had confidence! ( in sunshine, he had confidence in rain, he had confidence that spring would come again!). In addition, although it didn't last long, he did have a dark lord in the back of his head, Quirrell felt genuinely and Satisfactorily happy

_Later that afternoon in Snape's office_

"But the question really was what shade of purple?" Snape thought to himself, running his hand through his hair as he gazed into a hand mirror he had confiscated off a Ravenclaw student. Quirell's words had left a distinct impression on Snape unearthing for the first time Snape's sense of (dun dun dun…) fashion!

" sir?"

Snape spun round dropping the mirror, which shattered on the floor and tripped over his wastepaper basket, causing him to descend rather hurriedly onto the floor and onto a rather lethal recently glass tiled area of floor.

From his new vantage point, Snape stared up into the befuddled and bewildered face of Gregory Goyle. Swiftly and smoothly Snape regained an upright position, trying to ignore the rather lethal shard of glass that was currently lodged in his lower calf, "And that Goyle' he said icily " is why Tai Chi is best left up to," here he paused, wondering where this sentence was going. " the Muggles " he finished with a half hearted sneer.

"Y-yes sir" stammered the now utterly petrified Goyle.

Snape turned back to his desk only to be distracted by a small squeak from behind him. This squeak was Goyle trying not to clear his throat to regain the attention of Snape. "Y-you wanted to see me? Sir?"  
"Are you trying to rush me Goyle?

"No sir!"

"Is there a place you'd rather be? Goyle?"

"No sir!"

"Then you can wait a minute longer." Snape growled, racking his brains to try to remember why he had wanted to see Goyle. Eventually he gave up "God damn it child! What did you do?

"I-I-I was,"

"Come on spit it out boy!"

"I was passing notes!" Goyle bellowed in terror

"Sir!" He added with a yelp

The silence echoed through the dungeons. Snape almost winced as the glass in his leg sent up a new wave of pain but he curled his lip at the last minute providing Goyle with a terrifyingly gruesome display of facial features no child or adult without easy access to a mental therapist should ever bear witness.

"Passing notes?" Snape sneered, and then gave up being scary, it was too exhausting. "What are you a Hufflepuff?" he asked in disgust "We do not pass notes in Slytherin! Interrupt the class! Bellow all conversations! Wreak chaos!" and with that Snape's brief moment of patriotism ended. With a tired wave of his hand, he dismissed the snivelling mass of whale blubber before him "Now get out of my sight,"

"Y-yes…. Is that blood on your leg sir?"

"Get out!" Snape roared. Damn it boy, Snape thought, stop being so damn thick and have the decency to be impressed.

Later that evening as Snape limped up towards the staff table he noticed Harry potter and his friends glaring at him evilly. Now the boy had a thing against cripples! Snape shook his head; you just can't win with some people


End file.
